


underneath the skin

by brosura



Series: sack of ffxv crumbs [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, MY BRAND, Past Torture, crossposted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16890684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brosura/pseuds/brosura
Summary: Prompto takes a moment to recover from his injuries in Gralea. Noctis takes a moment with him.They get closer to the feeling of being ok again.





	underneath the skin

**Author's Note:**

> written for the sensory prompt "violet bruised eyes" on tumblr

The pain returns all at once as Prompto hears the familiar sound of one of the mechanical doors sliding shut.

He’d been able to ignore it in his relief, his delight at seeing his friends, in the rush of fear and adrenaline as they moved together in a somber and tense quiet through the eerily bright halls of Gralea.

But he can’t now that they’re relatively safe behind closed doors.

The aching in every part of his body comes back as he lowers himself to a bed, shuddering in both exhaustion and from the effort of just moving with his injuries. He shuts his eyes against it and slouches where he’s seated, pressing his palms to his forehead as his body remembers every stinging cut, every throb of a bruise, the burn of wind-chapped skin.

He avoids touching his eyes at first, one is still thrumming with a soreness that sinks deep into the socket. The lid sits clumsy and awkward over his eye, like it isn’t even his skin, and he knows that it’s probably swollen. It isn’t the worst of the pain he’s feeling, but somehow it’s what he focuses on as he gently runs fingers along his brow bone and over his shut eyes, pressing down until that vague ache sharpens.

“Stop that,” he hears, gentle and concerned.

Distantly, he hears a potion being cracked and suddenly that hot intensity of his pain is washed with that cool feeling of magic. He blinks his eyes open, his eyelid still awkward as it moves, to find Noctis standing over him.

Prompto gives him a small smile, but it falters because this is the first time he’s had a chance to look at Noctis this closely since that moment when he’d pulled Prompto down from his restraints, held him close, panic and relief in his voice and in the furrow of his brows.

But now that they’re past that, now that they’re in the quiet of this room, he can see that Noctis is injured as well.

A few cuts on the arm, some bloody tears on the cloth of his shirt. He’s not sure what face he’s making as his hand comes up to brush a thumb over the still purple bruise on Noct’s cheekbone, but the look Noctis gives him is fond and apologetic.

_Why?_ Prompto wonders, as Noct’s own hand comes up, as he feels Noct’s thumb run along the bone below his eye. It’s gentle, but there’s still a little pain at the pressure.  _Why does he look like that, when he’s injured too?_

“I’m sorry,” Noctis says, and his voice cracks around it. “I was- I should have-”

“Don’t,” Prompto cuts him off, but it sounds like a plea because the idea that Noctis is  _blaming himself_ for this is almost as overwhelming as the pain.  _“Don’t._  I- This isn’t your fault.”

There’s uncertainty in the shaky smile Noct gives him, there’s still that familiar look of someone disgusted by themselves, by something they did, but when Noctis lets out a shuddering breath it escapes as something like a relieved laugh.

“You look cool,” he says, voice still cracking. “Like you won a fight.”

_“You should see the other guy,”_ Prompto wants to say, but it’s stuck in his throat as he remembers Ardyn, with his cruel smile and the look in his eyes as cold as the knives in his hands and as hard as his knuckles against Prompto’s bruised skin. He swallows it, and says instead, as he runs his thumb back over the bruise on Noct’s cheek, “You, too. Did you win?”

“Yeah,” Noctis chokes, half-sob and half-laughter. “Yeah, I won. You did, too.”

And it’s a lie, but it’s one he desperately wants to believe as he echoes, “I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> me @ them, crying: hold on honeys theres a big storm coming
> 
> if you liked the fic, please feel free to drop a comment or hit me up on my [tumblr](http://brosura.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/bigkatsanctuary)!!


End file.
